


Almost

by Zebooboo



Series: Wasteland [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 17:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18428963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zebooboo/pseuds/Zebooboo
Summary: "You two still aren't talking? It's been almost three months.""I know.""You gonna talk to him soon? You'll have to do something about this eventually."





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

> This came out very weird, have it anyway xD

Shiro sat heavily on the bench, a wolf's snout already nudging at his hands, looking for scritches.

He indulged them for a moment and turned to look at Feros on the other end on the bench. He was positively covered in fur and in hardly a better mood than when he had arrived at the Peak.

This was getting ridiculous.

"You two still aren't talking?"

He got a grunt that was probably a negative. This could take a while.

"It's been almost three months."

"I know."

Oh, he speaks!

"You gonna talk to him soon?"

The other exo shifted uncomfortably, dislodging a pup's head from his thigh, it whined at him, but he remained silent.

Ok, maybe he doesn't speak.

"You'll have to do something about this eventually."

He got no answer.

Now _Shiro_ was getting annoyed.

"You know she's hardly the first Guardian to get sent on one of _Cayde's_ scouting missions right?"

That got a reaction out of him. Feros exhaled roughly, burying his face in his hands.

"I know."

"And that he wasn't going to drop her to the most dangerous place he could find right off the bat?"

"I know."

"Also you know that usually Guardians actually get to the Tower within the first month they get Risen? Cause otherwise most die?"

_"I know."_

"She hardly counts as a Kinder if she can get the drop on _you_."

"She's still getting sent off like that without a mentor."

"Would hardly be the first. Besides, she's a Warlock right? Or something like one. They do stuff different than us."

Feros scrubbed his face in his hands for a moment and sighed dejectedly.

"...Cayde needs to do his job Fee. He can't afford not to."

"I know..."

Shiro put an arm around the Nighstalker's shoulders and squeezed him into a one-armed hug.

"It's not easy to accept, I know. But he's gotta look after more than just us. Just...try and _talk_ with him. _Really_ talk. Not this weird thing you two have with talking but not saying anything."

He got a weak chuckle in response. Better than nothing.

After a moment he felt Feros lean into the embrace. It's been a while since they've been affectionate with each other. It wears on the psyche, not having a friendly touch.

"...You don't have to talk to Cayde right away but I think sticking around the City for a bit might help his peace of mind. He's really worried about you."

(More like frantic because he thinks he broke something between them when it wasn't even there yet.)

He feels the other tense at that.

"Face it, you don't like spending time here unless it's for a job. I don't mind it, and for all his pestering I think Saladin doesn't mind it either. But staying here isn't good for you."

"...I guess."

Feros shrugged off the pups still lounging on his legs and made to get up but Shiro pulled him down.

"You know what, Cayde doesn't have access to my place and it's been left closed up for a while. Go clean it up a bit. Stay there if you don't want to get pestered right away."

Shiro transmated an old ring of keys and handed them over.

Feros seemed to freeze until Shiro gave him a nudge.

"Go get your shit together and fix this up. You got this."

"...Thanks, Shiro."

The Bladedancer waved him away.

It was enough that Feros realised where he went wrong. Giving Cayde a scare with all this was good too. They had let this thing between them sit and rot for too long.

Maybe he was hoping for too much, but even a tiny step forward was going to be enough with these bullheaded two.

* * *

It wasn't a busy day in the streets per se, but it still got to her. Too loud, too many people. Schala looked on from a shaded alcove as the day wore on.

She just wasn't used to society yet. Over a year in the Wilds made her first reaction to large groups to go for her gun. For all she adored the City, it made her anxious.

"Maybe we could find a small shop and sit for some coffee. Wait for noon when people go home or for lunch." Tyr gave out an option as he flitted around her head .

She didn't want to sit with people moving around her all the time. It would just make her nervousness worse. She just wanted to get back to her rooms and read about things in the databases. About _music_.

But a literal wall of people and half a city were between her and her safe havens in the Tower.

(Ikora brought her to the Warlocks' libraries. It was so _silent_ and so _grand_ and there was so much she could _read about_. Her new Vanguard had also brought her along to one of the smaller training halls in the Tower.

They typically went unused, but she had wanted to see how well Schala could use her Light. How _differently_ she worked with it than every other Warlock and Hunter and Titan before her. Because she was different.

Ikora was matter of fact. Explained things patiently and always listened to her. The exo liked her.)

Now she searched the crowds with mounting worry for a break in the flow for her to slip through or a friendly face she could call out to. Or else all the pent up emergy might come out as a mostly unchecked pair of fiery wings that would most likely earn her a lecture and a reprimand.

(She enjoyed the warmth being a Dawnblade brought. It kept the Void's chill away, kept the whispers away. Even when Ikora was somewhat disappointed when she couldn't change her Light enough to be what she called a Sunsinger.

She might try again later. It was just like changing frequency on her comms, she thought to herself. She just needed to find the right knob to turn.)

And it was odd then, because with all her nerves the first thing she noticed about the exo she saw walking on the other side of the street wasn't that she knew his Light. For all the stinging it had left her with.

Nor was it that he both looked and felt out of place with the casual clothes or the grocery bags he was carrying.

It was that he was barefoot.

(Though she thought a bit deliriously that she missed the furred cloak. It had looked so soft.)

"L-Lord Feros..." Her typically quiet voice was almost threadbare as Schala made to call out. All wrung out.

Her arm fell from her failed attempt to catch his attention. He was walking away, busy grumbling at his brightly shelled Ghost.

Tyr nudged at her shoulder, making her turn her attention to him.

"Stay here, I'll go talk to them ok?" He flitted away before she could snatch him back.

He was leaving her alone?! A tremble run its way down her spine. Schala knew he was just across the street but right now, with all the noise and the bodies pressing in and all the energy crashing around her?

(Oh it was a challenge in not letting go.)

She saw the dot of Tyr's scuffed shell bob its way to the duo, calling them to a halt. She couldn't hear what was said but the Iron Lord turned to look at her a moment later.

She almost regretting trying to call out to him now.

There was a tense minute of awkward shuffling before he was standing in front of her, Tyr now back at her side.

"Warlock-uh Schala, your Ghost said you needed some help?"

Traveler take her, he sounded as uncomfortable as she felt. She ducked her head and gave a small nod.

"I...can't handle crowds very well. I'm not used to them."

His eyes seem to light up when she spoke.

"Ah, I see. I know what you mean."

He took a moment to move all the bags he was carrying to one arm and offered his freed hand to her.

"It can get really hectic. Come, I'm going to a friend's place I'm looking after for a bit. I'll make you some coffee.... Or tea, I think I got tea."

Schala looked between his face, the offered hand and bared, curled toes before staring at the hand a moment longer.

(And the Void in him was kind.)

She took the hand and he led them through the less crowded backstreets. She didn't speak when when they stopped in front of a nondescript building, or when he ushered her into an apartment that smelled faintly of cleaning products.

But she nodded gratefully when he brought a mug of steaming tea and put it in her twitchy hands. She felt herself start to relax when he sat down on the chair across her with a cup coffee and started cleaning his auto rifle on the table between them.

It was an odd kindness. She was grateful when he didn't pressure her to speak. Grateful it was quiet and relaxed here, even with a vein of awkwardness lanced through the setting from not knowing each other.

(But in a way they did. His Light had ended her life so many time already. Her Light had scorched his away with such abandon. They still barely even knew each other's names and she...)

"I belive that I should apologise..."

The Hunter looked up from the dismantled auto rifle, puzzled.

"For what? Not asking for help I hope? You're not the only Guardian to have trouble adjusting to the City, it's perfectly fine."

"No, though I am very grateful, I...I think I made a mistake, when I accepted that bet."

He tensed, setting his tools down slowly. His face was inscrutable.

"I made the situation between you and Cayde, uh, strained. I'm sorry."

Schala pulled off the filched knives. She had found new sheaths for them. Hasn't used them since she snatched them, only ever pulled them out to admire them.

She set them on the table, handles facing the original owner. She wrapped her fingers around her mug and peered down the murky depths of her tea with pursed lips.

"I shouldn't have said yes."

It had been weighing on her mind. Every time she spoke with Cayde during and after one of his scouting missions she felt awful. Hearing him push to be cheerful hurt, when it was so blatant.

First thing she had done after reachong the City, other than fight an Iron Lord? Make a rift between these two. Not a proud moment of hers.

Feros sighed heavily and picked up one knife to fiddle with.

"It was hardly your fault we became like this. Me and Cayde have been.. not talking, about some issues for a long time and your bet was just the tipping point."

He looked her in the eye and smiled crookedly, his flaceplates shifting in a strained manner before relaxing in a more neutral position.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. We'll figure ourselves out."

It wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She had thought she would be indulged and then waved off, not reassured that they would fix themselves.

She was even more surprised when Feros turned the blades around and pushed them back towards her.

"They're yours now. You earned them."

He _winked_ at her. A guffaw escaped her before she even realised it.

This was not the way she thought this conversation would go.

(Her odd laughing seemed to break the remaining ice. They spent some time talking after that.

He asked her about her missions, she answered best as she could. He seemed satisfied she hasn't had any difficulties up till now.

He insisted she call him Feros, after he winced one too many times hearing the Lord title tucked in front of his name. She shrugged and indulged him, it didn't make much of a difference.

They talked about the City, about the Light. Their Ghosts even got comfortable to come out and join the conversation.

Mia started pestering Feros after a bit to wash his feet after walking outside barefoot, _what had he been thinking_.

Tyr looked all prim next to the loud and chirpy Mia. Schala poked his battered shell affectionately. She needed to find him something nicer.

It was getting late when Schala made to leave, their chatting having stretched too long. He would end up escorting her back to the Tower, for all her protesting that she was _fine_ now, it wasn't nearly as crowded anymore.

Feros bid her farewell at the bottom entrance to the Tower and seemed to melt into the shadows around them.

Schala felt all the better after getting to her rooms. It had been a interesting and full day. Even with the mental exhaustion letting sone whispers through. She might see some odd dreams tonight.)

* * *

He liked her.

"Are we keeping her? She laughs at your awful jokes, can we keep her?"

He couldn't steal her away, she was a Warlock. Ikora would have his head.

"She counts enough right? You had to fight her so they could decide who gets her!"

"It's not that simple Mia."

"She's already doing missions for Cayde, he's gonna steal her anyway."

He sighs irritably.

"Cayde giving out missions is not him trying to steal a new Hunter."

"But _we_ can keep her during her missions right?"

They could. He could ask, request a spot on her fireteam just in case...

(Would she mind? He would ask her. Maybe tomorrow.)

"Big Bad Iron Lord wants to have a protégé. So cute."

"Mia please."

"Mia will have her fun. I liked her too you know. And Tyr was fun to rile up."

It was. It was different than hanging with Shiro or Cayde. It was good.

(But it almost reminded him of Tevis. Schala got the same faraway look at times. For all her brightness there was something else in the room with them.

There was a note of worry ringing through him for the rest of the night.)

**Author's Note:**

> come shout at me on tumblr? @shalalalalaw


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